


For The Hope of It All

by notsodarling



Series: no more keepin' score [13]
Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Birthday, Fluff, M/M, Two Idiots Who Love Each Other A Lot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-03-16 22:40:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28714431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notsodarling/pseuds/notsodarling
Summary: Michael's never been big on celebrating.
Relationships: Michael Guerin/Alex Manes
Series: no more keepin' score [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2057037
Comments: 18
Kudos: 84





	For The Hope of It All

**Author's Note:**

> Just an idea about Michael that popped into my head the other day.
> 
> Title from "august" by Taylor Swift
> 
> <3

Growing up, the only things Michael liked about his birthday was that it was a day he got to spend with Max and Isobel, and it meant he was one year closer to finally being completely free of Child Protective Services. The foster homes he got bounced around barely acknowledged the day, and as Isobel had once helpfully pointed out, it wasn't even their  _ real _ birthday.

Alex's birthday is a few weeks after his, right in the middle of summer, and Michael is looking forward to that date more than his own. Because he's been working on something for Alex, keeping it locked away in his workshop and out of sight until it's finished.

He hopes Alex likes it.

"Why do you never do anything for your birthday?" Maria had once asked, knowing the date and presenting him with a cupcake and a single lit candle. 

"It's just the date they found us."

He'd been deflecting, mistakenly thinking she would let it go.

"Max and Isobel always do - I remember those parties Isobel had once we hit high school."

He'd shrugged, because he hadn't wanted to drag her down, tell her about how it was just another date on the calendar to him. Her birthday had been in the early months they'd dated, when he'd been spiraling at his worst, still wrecked from Max's stupid decisions, and he'd missed it.

A year later, even though they weren't together anymore, even though she'd broken up with him, he'd taken over Isobel's kitchen for an afternoon and baked her a lemon poppyseed cake to make up for it. 

But tomorrow is his birthday, and he hasn't mentioned it to anyone, and he hasn't taken off work, because while he hears that's a thing people do, he doesn't see the point. And to make him feel even less like celebrating, Alex is away on an overnight recruitment trip, and won't be back until late, so he probably won't even see Alex at all tomorrow.

He supposes, if he was the kind to celebrate a birthday, to be able to enjoy the day and all that it meant, he would want to spend it in bed with Alex. Just tangled up together, waking up together, spending the day together, falling asleep together. But Alex hasn't mentioned it, hasn't said a word about knowing it's his birthday tomorrow, and for some reason, the idea of Alex not knowing, or worse, not caring, hurts more than he ever expected. And perhaps because there are less than a handful of times since that summer they first got together, where Alex hasn't been on the other side of the world.

That summer, they'd driven out to the desert that night, Alex sneaking out of his house, and Michael picking him up a block away. He'd filled the bed of the truck with blankets he'd borrowed from the Evans' house, old things Isobel had pushed onto him worried he'd get too cold sleeping in his truck. And under the stars, he'd let Alex take him apart piece by piece, inch by inch. His hand had hurt too much in those early days, frustrated him too easily that his mobility had been limited and couldn't touch Alex in the ways he wanted. But he’d relented with some coaxing from Alex, some whispered promises that it was his birthday,  _ his present _ , and when his hand was better, Alex would be waiting for him to return the favor.

Michael falls asleep in his trailer like normal, ignoring a text message from Isobel about a birthday breakfast at the Crashdown.

He wakes up hours later when he hears the door of the Airstream close. There's never been a quiet way to close it, the metal on metal always creating a racket. But there are only a handful of people who would walk in without knocking and waiting for an answer - especially in the middle of the night.

Michael uses his telekinesis and flips on the lamp near the door, and pushes himself up to see-

"Sorry," Alex apologizes, but he's smiling and Michael can't even be mad for being woken up. He's still wearing his uniform, and as Michael tries to remember how to speak as he pushes away the fog of sleep, he watches Alex shed his jacket, draping it over the chair by the door.

"What are you doing here?"

"I know - I know we're still - we haven't-" Alex sounds so unsure of himself, reminding Michael of so many other conversations they've had in the past, but nothing recent. No, these days they both have been able to talk more openly to each other, as if everything that had once stopped them both is suddenly gone.

Alex's gaze goes to the watch on his wrist.

"It's your birthday."

But that doesn't explain why Alex is  _ here _ . They haven't been anything in months, they barely even talked about how to move forward, even though after listening to part of that song Alex had sang at the Pony, Michael is sure they're working towards wanting the same thing.

But  _ fuck _ , Michael wants him. Wants to kiss him, and touch him, and hold him. Wants to trace patterns into his skin, and breathe declarations into the space between them. It feels like an ache deep inside him, with Alex standing so close, the two of them alone in his trailer. 

He watches as Alex unties his boots, kicking them off and pushing his pants off next, sitting on the edge of the bed and removing his prosthetic before turning around, one hand immediately making its way into his hair, pushing and pulling at the curls, and Michael moans. He can't help it, there has always been something about Alex's touch that makes him feel loose and happy and loved and content.

Against his better judgement, he turns off the lights as their lips meet.

"What are we doing?" He asks anyway, Alex smiling against his skin, warm breath tickling him, and Michael shifts to wrap an arm around him, pulling their bodies close.

"I know birthdays aren't your thing," Alex whispers into the dark of the trailer. "But I didn't want to not be here for yours."

Michael laughs, pressing his forehead to Alex's. "It's just another day. It doesn't mean anything."

"You're wrong, Michael. It's a day to celebrate  _ you _ ."

Michael doesn't know what exactly there is to celebrate, except that he's got Alex here in his arms, and he'll take that. Because maybe it means this time, he'll wake up and Alex will still be here. Maybe this time, he doesn't have to wake up to an empty bed and a broken heart.

Is that a birthday wish, Michael wonders as he drifts off.

In the morning, as the beginnings of the sunrise peak through the windows, Michael closes his eyes again, pushing his face into the side of Alex's neck, and smiling.

He stayed, Michael thinks immediately.

He feels Alex shift, turning his body toward Michael's own, their lips meeting in lazy, half-asleep kisses.

"Happy birthday," Alex whispers, the tip of his nose bumping into Michael's. 

_ He stayed _ .

**Author's Note:**

> [Next week is my birthday](https://darlingnotso.tumblr.com/post/639974106492747776), and my tumblr inbox is open for prompts and requests if you'd like to send anything my way. 
> 
> Thanks for reading! <3


End file.
